Un forgettable
by Alpacca Joe
Summary: "Fame and riches are fleeting. Stupidity is eternal"  Don Williams, Jr


**(Un)forgettable**  
>518/11

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><p>"Fame and riches are fleeting. Stupidity is eternal."<br>~Don Williams, Jr

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><p>Daria and Trent smiled and joked as they sat up on the Lanes' threadbare couch, writing lyrics and music for the Spiral's summer tour. It was late, past one am, but copious amounts of soda kept the two alert.<p>

Daria's heavy boots lay on the floor abandoned, her jean-sheathed legs folded under her on the couch. Her hair had been twisted up behind her head in a vain attempt to lessen the discomfort of a summer night without air conditioning, and the back of her tee shirt was damp.

Trent was dressed in a pair of ripped jeans, a black tank top, and no more. His hair was damp from sweat and the condensation on the soda can he kept pressing to his forehead and temple, tousled from the repeated pass of long fingers through thick locks.

The going was slow, if only for the stealing of shy glances back and forth when one or the other was not looking. There were flirtatious jokes shared, "accidental" brushing of limbs and shoulders, and very little writing going on. Finally, near sunrise, they finished a third song in first draft.

Daria laid her pen down in the notebook she had been working in, closed it and rested a hand on the cover.

"I hope you'll still remember me when you're rich, famous and surrounded by groupies."

Trent chuckled and put his guitar aside, flexing his stiff fingers.

"What are you talking about?"

Daria shrugged and turned her head to face him, smiling sadly.

"I'm forgettable."

Trent slung an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. In the cool morning air, the warmth of their bodies was comforting and comfortable.

"I could never forget you, Daria."

Daria sighed, expression ambivalent as she watched the sky lighten through one of the dingy living room windows.

"We'll see."

**0.0.0**

Daria and Jane waved the Tank away as Mystik Spiral left on their much anticipated tour. They carried with them over five hundred dollars cash and fourteen new songs to see them through the summer months.

The girls spent that time unwinding; bumming around each others' houses, sleeping in until noon, having bad movie marathons and generally being as lazy as humanly possible as they enjoyed their vacation. It would be back to Boston in a few weeks, back to school not long after that, and they wanted to enjoy themselves.

Sometime in late July, Daria checked her e-mail and was surprised to find a message from one of the band.

**From: "Nick C."** (ncampbell(at)yodel(dot)com)  
><strong>Subject: CHECK IT OUT!<strong>

.com/shout-outs_review_mystik_spiral

It was a link to a review of one of Spiral's shows.

Daria read it through, and with each sentence, her smile grew larger. When she got to the end of the article, her eyes practically bugged out of her head. Dumbfounded, she scrolled to the top and began again. The final sentence remained the same.

_Mystik Spiral's front man, Trent Lane, has confirmed the rumors that they've signed a short-term contract with Dead Head Records._

The Spiral was on their way.

**0.0.0**

Though she had received her advanced copy in the mail, Daria took much pleasure in walking into the local Tower Records and purchasing Mystik Spiral's first C.D. herself.

She smiled down at the cover, designed by Jane (of course), and traced a finger over the the title.

**Unforgettable Muse**

The track list held all of the songs she and Trent had labored over those summer nights in Lawndale, and this small physical proof of a realized dream made every moment of frustration worth it.

Her personally signed copy of the Spiral's C.D. sat on a shelf in her dorm room, untouched. The copy she purchased at Tower remained in her stereo at all times, the title track playing softly in the background.

**0.0.0**

She was in the middle of writing a term paper when Jane burst into her room, waving a flier and babbling incoherently. It took a few minutes to calm the brunette down enough to get a even a few clear words out of her.

"Spiral...show...Boston..."

Daria took the abused sheet of paper from her panting friend and read it. She surprised them both by letting a wide grin creep up on her stunned face.

Only a few words registered with her mind.

**Mystik Spiral**

_One night Engagement!_

And finally, the words that seemed to demonstrate their success as none others could: _**Standing Room Only**_.

Eyes wide behind her glasses, Daria gaped giddily up at Jane. Grinning herself, Jane held up a pair of tickets.

The term paper was left half-written. After all, there was always tomorrow for homework; Spiral's show was one night only.

**0.0.0**

Friday evening was always a bit anticlimactic; the end of a week of work, work, work; two days of rest and relaxation; then back to the grind on Monday morning. Daria sighed, adjusted the strap of her messenger bag and waited for the street light to change.

On the Jumbo-tron down the street, Daria was suddenly assaulted with a larger-than-life closeup of Trent's face. A scrolling ribbon subtitled the video, and she read it with growing shock. Daria stared as the crowd surged around her and taxis honked to her left.

Mystik Spiral was no more.

Daria stood awash in a sea of pedestrians, eyes glued to the screen as life went on all around her.

**0.0.0**

She had gotten the tickets through her agent, rather than rely on Jane to hook her up yet again. Her agent knew his publicist; the two of them had talked about getting together for his biography.

_As close to fiction as legally permissible_, she had told Daria with a mixture of amusement and disgust. _Maybe_ you _should write it at least then all the commas would be in the right places._

Jane was waiting at the gallery when Daria's car came to fetch her. Together, the old friends made it to Madison Square Garden, breezed through security and were waiting beside the doors when the limo pulled up.

The screams were almost deafening, and the flashes of what seemed like a million cameras dazzled their eyes. A large group of people were approaching slowly from the opposite end of the entrance, and Daria heard Jane grumble, "When did he get so damn theatrical?"

After what felt like an eternity, he was right there in front of them. Daria stepped forward, smiling, and he turned to look directly into her eyes.

_I'm forgettable_.

"Trent!" she greeted her old friend cheerfully, grinning from ear to ear.

_I could never forget you, Daria_.

His stare was blank, dark eyes cold as they looked right through her. An empty smile stretched his lips as he turned his face away.

Daria watched the back of his leather jacket as he strode through the doors on his long legs, entourage closing in behind him, and the smile froze on her lips. Jane's hand closed around hers as the first needle sting of pain set in.

_We'll see_.

**End**.


End file.
